Vicky aur Dicky ki Amar Kahani

I run the Shahnaz Memorial Trust. Among other things, the Trust aims to create rags to riches stories by giving interest-free loans to young entrepreneurs as a first step to their hopefully becoming millionaires. These youngsters cannot get bank loans, and the informal market charges at least 36% interest on unsecured loans, a huge hurdle.

Finding suitable candidates for the trust has proved elusive. With the help of a well-known NGO, we identified five “promising” entrepreneurs in Mirzapur, and gave them soft business loans. Alas, four of them have defaulted on loans. The fifth is doing well, pays instalments on time, and has now asked for and been given a second loan, interest-free.

This is a poor success rate for the trust.


In Delhi I have a working-class friend with a son who wants a business loan. To cloak their identity, let me call father and son Dicky and Vicky. Let me relate my conversation with Vicky.

Me: How much money do you need?

Vicky: I need Rs 10 lakh.

Me: What business do you do?

Vicky: I get contracts for very small-scale supplies to local government departments.

Me: How do you win contracts?

Vicky: Sir, one must bribe the officers to get the contracts.

Me: I am horrified you ask me for money to bribe officials. What makes you think I will finance this?

Vicky: Sir, you operate at a very high level where things are done without bribes. But I am at the lowest grassroot level, and no business here is possible without bribes. I cannot survive if I do not offer officials a cut. Do not blame me for a corrupt system that I did not create.

Me: What will you use the Rs 10 lakh for?

Vicky: I need the money for working capital, to stock supplies for quick delivery. That way I will be able to expand my small business.

Me: Why don’t your rival contractors pay higher bribes to get the business? What special advantage do you have over them?

Vicky: Sir, I know how to butter up the officials. My speech is sweet and persuasive, and I can create relationships with officials. After giving officials their cut, of course.

Me: All government business is getting digitized. One day even small-scale contracts will be bid for electronically, and no official will have control over contract awards. When that happens, your entire business model will collapse. What will you do then?

Vicky: Sir, I don’t know, I have never thought about this.

This ended our conversation. I said I would think about what he had said and get back to him.

Dicky then came to plead with me. His son was a good boy. Don’t worry, I will ensure he repays his instalments. Do not get upset about bribes, which are simply a fact of life.

As a journalist, I have long condemned government corruption. I asked myself, should I become a hypocrite, and finance a youngster to get contracts through bribes and buttering up officials? My Trust wanted to create rags to riches stories. But if the first step was successful bribery, should I subsidise that?

I had recently read the autobiography of Subhash Chandra of Zee TV, cowritten with Pranjul Sharma and titled “The Z Factor: My Journey as the Wrong Man at the Right Time.” It is a fascinating story of a youngster starting with a bust family business but using his entrepreneurship to become one of India’s greatest business titans.

Chandra is astonishingly frank. When he was a small man looking for small business contracts, he started wining and dining the relevant officials, charming them into becoming friends. These officials gave him inside information about bids of rival contractors, enabling him to win many contracts. This success was the starting block for his later huge feats.

This was the very same “grassroot reality” young Vicky was talking about. If buttering up and befriending officials was the way up for Subhash Chandra, why not for Vicky too? Was it fair for me to set a higher standard for Vicky and Dicky?

I called Vicky back. I said I would give him the money mainly because he was Dicky’s son. I said I disliked his business, and saw it threatened by digitisation too. But relationships mattered and he was Dicky’s son.

Should I have financed a bribe-giver? Or should I have insisted he follow the path of integrity, even if that would lead nowhere in India’s reality?

I discussed this dilemma with a group of friends. The consensus was that India suffers from corruption that must be reformed, but Vicky cannot be blamed for offering bribes. Some friends suggested I fund youths in non-corrupt businesses, but others said every business entails pay-offs.

Identifying honest businessmen in advance is difficult. In Mirzapur, 4 of the 5 businessmen we financed defaulted. We had better luck in the tribal belt near Baroda. In collaboration with ARCH Vahini, we have given seven loans for small businesses, all of which are being repaid on time. Clearly, the trick is to find an excellent grassroots collaborator. They are rare.